the great books (xiii) - the lovely bones

In some ways, The Lovely Bones is best read alongside author Alice Sebold's memoir, Lucky. The latter is her account of her rape and near-death as a young college student; the former is her novel of a young girl's murder and subsequent life in heaven (we'll qualify that in a moment). Both are harrowing; both are, in their own ways, hopeful. Both are well-written; neither is maudlin or brutal.

Susie Salmon, the victim in The Lovely Bones, writes from, and of, heaven but the glimpses of it are relatively few; its concerns are more with life on earth and the impact of her murder on her family and friends. Sebold's writing on the topic is sharp and clear - almost icily so at times.

The heaven portrayed here is thin and watery; its happiness is detached and dulled. And Susie's own reconciliation with her death is via a consummated relationship in a brokered return to earth. What becomes clear, perhaps unintentionally so, is the fact that a disembodied reality cannot ultimately contain the fulness of joy we were made for.

And it will not; our adoption as sons will be completed with the redemption of our bodies.

welsh hill farmers; you can't get better than this

Gosh - I didn't expect that!

A BBC4 programme on the making of the Duran Duran album Rio shows them to be seriously competent, intelligent musicians, and interesting too. Even Bob Geldof sang their praises.

Life takes some strange turns.

on the crest

of a google wave!

finally got my invitation today to sign-up for google wave.

not sure if or how much i'll end up using it.

but it feels great to be able to do so!

not a clue what it is? try this.

in praise of written sermons (and more)

My father always preached from notes, and I wrote my sermons out word for word. There are boxes of them in the attic....For me writing has always felt like praying, even when I wasn't writing prayers, as I was often enough. You feel that you are with someone. I feel I am with you now, whatever that can mean, considering that you're only a little fellow now and when you're a man you might find these letters of no interest. Or they might never reach you, for any of a number of reasons. Well, but how deeply I regret any sadness you have suffered and how grateful I am in anticipation of any good you have enjoyed. That is to say, I pray for you. And there's an intimacy in it. That's the truth....

...I wrote almost all of [the sermons] in the deepest hope and conviction. Sifting my thoughts and choosing my words. Trying to say what was true. And I'll tell you frankly, that was wonderful. I'm grateful for all those dark years, even though in retrospect they seem like a long, bitter prayer that was answered finally. Your mother walked into church in the middle of a prayer - to get out of the weather, I thought at the time, because it was pouring. And she watched me with eyes so serious I was embarrassed to be preaching to her. As Boughton would say, I felt the poverty of my remarks.

Sometimes I have loved the peacefulness of an ordinary Sunday. It is like standing in a newly planted garden after a warm rain. You can feel the silent and invisible life. All it needs from you is that you take care not to trample on it. And that was such a quiet day, rain on the roof, rain against the windows, and everyone grateful, since it seems we never do have quite enough rain. At times like that I might not care particularly whether people are listening to whatever I have to say, because I know what their thoughts are. Then if some stranger comes in, that very same peace can seem like somnolence and like dull habit, because that is how you're afraid it seems to her.

Marilynne Robinson, Gilead, pp.21-23

man of steel

Man of steel, your hands
so strong, your
grip so tight;
laughter as fluid
as spilt milk.
At ease without
effort; curling
joy into a ball
for playing in the streets.
Unwilling, unable,
to wrest the
depths for lasting
truth; how settled
into shallows
of uncluttered
occupation.

todoist & doings

not wanting to get too esoteric, but....for a while now i've been using todoist as my task manager. it's a great (& free) online service. what it's lacked, for me, has been an adequate iphone app. minttodo offered promise but doesn't really cut it. but any day now, doings should be in the app store - and it looks like it will finally bring all the benefits of todoist to the iphone.

i can't wait.

the great books (xii) - red bird

Mary Oliver is a recent discovery for me in the world of poetry (I don't keep close tabs on what's going down in that world, I have to say). The first volume of her work I read was Thirst, which also happened to be her first collection of poems that handle a turning to faith in God. But it's her latest work, Red Bird, that I'm choosing for this list.

Her poetry is an absolute delight to me - it's the sort of poetry you 'get' on first reading and yet it calls you back again and again. First readings generally disclose a luxuriating moment; her use of ordinary language in service of joy and humanity marks her as a genius.

She may write a lot about nature but in a wholly different tone to Ted Hughes. And, latterly, her poetry has used meditation upon all things created as a doorway into time spent in contemplating and addressing the Creator.

I can't do better than quote here the following poem by way of example.

Maker of All Things, Even Healings

All night
under the pines
the fox
moves through the darkness
with a mouthful of teeth
and a reputation for death
which it deserves.
In the spicy
villages of the mice
he is famous,
his nose
in the grass
is like an earthquake,
his feet
on the path
is a message so absolute
that the mouse, hearing it,
makes himself
as small as he can
as he sits silent
or, trembling, goes on
hunting among the grasses
for the ripe seeds.
Maker of All Things,
including appetite,
including stealth,
including the fear that makes
all of us, sometime or other,
flee for the sake
of our small and precious lives,
let me abide in your shadow -
let me hold on
to the edge of your robe
as you determine
what you must let be lost
and what will be saved.

matt redman: we shall not be shaken

A new album from Matt Redman - spotified.

Leithart on Marilynne Robinson's Literary Calvinism

With Home amongst the Best Books list on this blog, here's an interesting addition: an essay by Peter Leithart on the Literary Calvinism of Marilynne Robinson.

Worth a gander.

grace in full bloom

We were sat today with a friend who knows she is dying. She has been terminally unwell for some time but her time is now clearly and visibly short. What was most clear, though, was the brilliance of God's grace, sustaining her and her family, giving glimpses of better things and sight of present blessings, too. It was more humbling than words can say.

On a similar theme is this interview with Steven Curtis Chapman, reflecting on the tragic death of his young daughter. It's solemn and solidifying reading.

His album, birthed from the grief, is on Spotify here.

a pop classic

I can't remember which radio station it was but, driving in the car the other day, an absolute classic pop song was playing - the kind of song that puts a smile on your face and a lightness in your step (if stepping is an appropriate thing to do when driving a car).

Anyway, here it is (spotify required). Enjoy.

"....talking Italian"

idolatry & ministry

Tim Keller has a new book (Counterfeit Gods) out soon on the subject of idolatry. His own personal reflections on idolatry in ministry are worth reading (go here).

virtual church

There's been a lot of debate in various places of late about the idea of 'virtual church' (people meeting for the purposes of 'church' in what is called synthetic space - i.e. virtually). The big question seems to be: Is virtual church 'church'? A couple of thoughts spring to mind:

i. One argument put forward to defend virtual church as real church is made along these lines: "I know someone who comes to my church every Sunday and is not physically present; I can’t touch him, can’t hold him, can’t hug him, can’t greet him with a holy kiss, but thank goodness, He’s there and in community with us." (from here)

I think we do need to admit the already/not yet dimensions of worship and of our personal knowledge of God. But it strikes me that there's a point being missed in that statement: he is physically present, inasmuch as his Spirit dwells within believers who meet together. You can - dare I say it - hug him. And that is part of the indispensible wonder of meeting together; we just don't realise it regularly enough, perhaps.

ii. It is, however, observably true that many people feel able to be more open and honest in relationships that are conducted in virtual space. Maybe that tells us we have more work to do in building secure face-to-face relationships that allow for a deep honesty. The attractiveness of virtual church to a large number of people is perhaps as much an indictment of 'real' church as it is of anything or anyone else.

the great books (xi) - jewel

Don't be put off by the cover of this book (it proudly announces it was chosen by the Oprah Book Club.....) - Bret Lott's tale of the life & times of Jewel Hilburn is a classic work of American fiction. The first chapter contains some of the finest writing I've ever had the pleasure to read and the rest of the book confirms its early promise.

It's about....well, I don't want to give too much away (I read it through without reading the blurb, not wanting to have any short-circuits) but life-history & the redemption of suffering wouldn't be a bad summary.

It's a truly great read.

High Flight: Dad's Movie Debut

Back in the 50s, Dad was stationed at RAF Cranwell. Whilst he was there, the base was used in a film called High Flight and starring Ray Milland and other notable actors (Leslie Phillips; John Le Mesurier; Anthony Newley to name a few). By a happy accident (I doubt he auditioned for the role), Dad had a walk-on part in which he helped an airman into his cockpit.

I last saw the film when I was very young (early 70s I think - we watched it on our black & white tv - we went colour in about '75). It's not the kind of film that gets shown these days and has been very hard to obtain. I thought we'd never track down a copy of it and a small piece of family history would be lost.

Well, I've managed to get hold of a copy and watched it today. It was in colour. Dad was superb, albeit onscreen for less than two seconds. He looked so young! And the whole film was really enjoyable.

A piece of history preserved.

God's Love is more than Kindness

If God is Love, He is, by definition, something more than kindness. And it appears, from all the records, that though He has often rebuked us and condemned us, He has never regarded us with contempt. He has paid us the intolerable compliment of loving us, in the deepest, most tragic, most inexorable sense.

C S Lewis, The Problem Of Pain, p.33

the present or eternity but not the future

In letter 15, Screwtape urges his nephew to focus his subject's thoughts on the future. He notes,

The humans live in time but our enemy destines them to eternity. He therefore, I believe, wants them to attend chiefly to two things, to eternity itself, and to that point of time which they call the Present. For the Present is the point at which time touches eternity. Of the present moment, and of it only, humans have an experience analogous to the experience which our Enemy has of reality as a whole; in it alone freedom and actuality are offered them...Our business is to get them away from the eternal, and from the Present...It is far better to make them live in the Future...We want a whole race perpetually in pursuit of the rainbow's end, never honest, nor kind, nor happy now, but always using as mere fuel wherewith to heap the altar of the future every real gift which is offered them in the Present.

C S Lewis, The Screwtape Letters, pp.75ff

prayer & busyness

I know someone who's reading Paul Miller's A Praying Life - sounds like a great book. Here's a really helpful quote from it (as noted by Josh Harris & mediated via Justin Taylor):

The quest for a contemplative life can actually be self-absorbed, focused on my quiet and me. If we love people and have the power to help, then we are going to be busy. Learning to pray doesn’t offer us a less busy life; it offers us a less busy heart. In the midst of outer busyness we can develop an inner quiet. Because we are less hectic on the inside, we have a greater capacity to love . . . and thus to be busy, which in turn drives us even more into a life of prayer. By spending time with our Father in prayer, we integrate our lives with his, with what he is doing in us. Our lives become more coherent. They feel calmer, more ordered, even in the midst of confusion and pressure.

the gift of food

Preparing to preach on Psalm 65, I came across this helpful observation by John Goldingay:

...food is the first thing God gives humanity (Gen. 1:29), the first thing God gives to humanity again after the flood (Gen. 9:3), a basic thing for which all look to God (Ps. 104:27,28), and the first thing for which Jesus bids his disciples pray (Lk. 11:3).

(Old Testament Theology, vol 2, p.562)